Jurisdictional Issues
by rippedunderwear
Summary: Taken some liberty with the characters; don't own the characters.
1. Chapter 1

I am working on two other stories that will be updated within the week. This just came to me and I wanted to make sure I didn't forget it. Hope you guys enjoy it! Reviews will be truly appreciated! Also, the names might be a bit confusing (you'll see ) so PM if it gets too complicated.

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><p>It was a bit past 10am when Emily woke up for the first time. She growled as she realized that she had only slept two hours and noticed she was still wearing the same outfit she had worn that night. As she got up to undress out of her tight and short Black dress, removing her black garter belt and stockings and an incredibly uncomfortable bra, Emily looked around her room and repeated the facts of her new life:<p>

_My name is Samantha Silver. I am twenty-eight years old. I was born and raised in Upper Darby, Pennsylvania. My parents, both Greek immigrants, were poor. I started college at American University but couldn't finish it due to raising debt and inability to pay my credit card loans. That was the original reason I became an escort…_

And repeating the facts of her new life, over and over in her head, she fell asleep.

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><p>It was almost 10pm when Emily left her room. While an old house in the historic district in D.C., Madame Iris' house was spectacular. It was three stories high arranged like a coliseum or an old hotel; rooms arranged on different floors around a large open area that used to be the living and dining rooms. Twelve rooms: three on the first floor, one for Iris and the other two for the two male staffers, four rooms on the second flood and five rooms on the top floor, all inhabited by Iris' girls. Emily was in one of the top floor rooms; a room that had previously been inhabited by Zola and Sophia. It was these two women's mysterious deaths that brought her here, to her current undercover assignment.<p>

This wasn't Emily's first assignment and- barring something awful- it was not going to be her last. She had been with Interpol for over ten years. While trained in the US military, she was recruited by the international organization shortly after graduating from West Point. Emily had dreamed of a career in the military but with her being gay and out and Don't Ask Don't Tell still being the law, she joined the international organization hoping to make a career elsewhere.

At the age of twenty-five, she joined Interpol's deep undercover unit, where she has been since. In the past eight years she has been Lauren, Jessica, Emma, Susan and many many others to the point where she often forgets that she is in fact, Emily. Even most of the major events in her adult life all happened while she was undercover. It was as Susan that she first fell in love; it was as Jessica that she learned her father had past away; it was as Lauren that she came out to her mother. She was rarely Emily and she had come to realize that she was more comfortable being other women, such as a drug dealer, an arms dealer and now a high-class sex worker, than she was just being Emily.

She walked out of her room and inspected the ballroom. The house's historic living and dining room had been converted into a ballroom where senators, presidents, ambassadors and other rich and powerful men and women came to be entertained by the beautiful women hand-picked and recruited by Madame Iris. She herself came to fame as Nixon's mistress.

Iris was a kind woman and even though clearly exploitative of her girls, she was thoughtful and loving to them. Most of the women were lost souls, about half were illegal immigrants- as Zola and Sophia had been- and life at Iris' house wasn't half bad. The women were treated kindly by Iris, the men paid them generously and Iris let them keep a large portion of the money. Because of who their clients were, these women were essentially immune to prosecution and arrests. It was a comfortable life, specially when compared to the life that most other sex workers have.

Emily walks onto the ballroom feeling the powerful men staring at her and takes a place at the bar. The bartender brings her a very dry martini and they make brief eye contact. Emily is happy to see Steve, well, now in his new life as Will, the charming bartender. She and Steve were at West Point together and have been partners for their entire careers. Both left the military because of their sexual orientation and both have been doing deep undercover for most of their adult life. They have a special bond; a bond that while rooted in their undercover work, goes beyond that. They are friends, family, arguably the only family the two of them really care for.

Standing right next to Emily, Steve points out, "the Mexican and Russian ambassadors are at table five. They have been drinking for a couple of hours now, the two men we are tagging haven't arrived yet and it looks like they might not come tonight," he says as he wipes the counter. As Emily gets up to make her way to table five, Steve whispers, "that red dress looks amazing on you. Makes me wish that I was a fancy high class prostitute..."

Taking a time to laugh with her friend, Emily finishes her martini and waits for Steve to make her a new one. Then, putting her game face on, she strides towards the ambassadors.

Two women, with deep connections to the Russian mob have been murdered in the past two weeks. The women died mysteriously; but Interpol recently found out that they were poisoned. No one knows how they were poisoned; worse, no one knows what they were poisoned with. Because of their mob connections and the fact that they were both Eastern European illegal immigrants whose immigration papers were illegally obtained, Interpol was called into the investigation by the Pentagon. Emily and Steve are to find out what happened to the women. They are not alone in the case but in order to protect their undercover assignments, the other Interpol and Pentagon agents don't know about Emily and Steve. The only other person in the house that knows about Steve and Emily is Madame Iris, who apparently has mob connections herself and is now truly afraid for her life. She also has agreed to help in exchange for immunity for the many labor violations, health violations and prostitution accusations.

The night had been comfortable but unsuccessful. Emily was making good conversation with the ambassadors, though she was unable to find out any pertinent information. Both men made an attempt to return with her to her room but she dismissed both attempts arguing that she had already schedule clients. She had kept an eye on the other women, Iris' eight other girls and the other high-class companions that Iris' would hire on a nightly basis. These women were pre-selected and allowed to work the ballroom. They were also in line if and when the rooms at the Iris' mansion open up.

_The women were all drinking and eating- just like their rich and powerful companions,_ Emily observed. _This likely means that the house's food and drinks were safe._ _The killings had been targeted; poisoning a bottle of bourbon would have caused random killings. It had to be a more personal approach._ Emily first thought that it was something in the room since the victims both lived in that room but it had been wiped and swabbed thoroughly- _it wasn't in the room_. It frustrated Emily that she couldn't figure out how and with what the women had been poisoned.

At almost 5am, Emily walks back to the bar where Steve is getting ready to close. They share a defeated look; neither of them was able to gather any useful information that night. The past couple of days had been productive. Emily was had been able to identify some of the customers as leaders in the Russian mob. Steve had been able to isolate their credit card numbers and they were able to track these men's finances with the Interpol Technology and Research Team. But they hadn't been able to find a connection between the men and the murdered women and the medical examiner hadn't been able to identify the poison.

"Oh my God Sarah, SARAH! Sarah, wake up!" Emily heard as she and Steve both ran up the stairs into Sarah's, one of Iris' girls, room. Katie, another one of the girls, was kneeled on the ground, with the friend's torso on her lap, violently shaking her friend. Looking at Sarah, Emily knew that she had been dead for about three hours since her body was in the beginning stages of rigor mortis. "Shit," Steve whispered under his breath as he walked out of the room. Emily knew he was going to make contact with Interpol and let them know what just happened.

Emily sat next to Katie and held her. The woman was shaken, as is expected, and Emily waited until she was done crying. The noises downstairs indicated to Emily that some time in the past fifteen minutes since she had held Katie, the police was called and were making their way upstairs. Soon, police officers asked the women to leave the room and started to prep what was now a crime scene. Emily took Katie to her room in order try to calm the woman down as she was now a main witness in a murder case and the police would likely want to talk to her.

Walking into her room, Emily kneeled in front of Katie who was now sitting on her bed and handed her a cup of water. "Thanks, Sam," Katie whispered. "What is happening? Why is this happening to us?" Katie asked as she started to sob again. Kate had been the house for several years and this was the third friend she had lost in less than a month. "I don't know," Emily answered honestly. She hated that she didn't know.

"Lie down Kate, you need to get some rest," Emily pleaded knowing that soon the police would want to talk to the two women. "I can't sleep," Kate explained, "I keep seeing her… her body." "Here," Emily volunteered, "I'll lie down with you." And as the women made themselves comfortable in bed, Steve appeared at the door.

"Samantha, Kate, the FBI has been called." Steve said and while he had addresses Katie, the information was only for Emily's sake. _Shit_, she thought. _This is going to turn into a jurisdictional clusterfuck. _And as Steve walked out, Emily asked,

"Will, what do they know?" knowing that Katie was none the wiser to the real meaning behind this question and that Steve would know that her inquiry wasn't about what they knew about the case but what they knew about their undercover assignment, she was relieved when Steve, with confidence, answered, "nothing."


	2. Chapter 2

It had been two days since Katie had found Sarah's body and the ballroom was finally going to reopened tonight. More importantly, the FBI had convinced Madam Iris not to put a new girl in Sarah's room. Emily had been nervous about the FBI's inclusion in the case but had been reassured by her superiors that her undercover assignment was protected and the FBI was not going to be told about it. They had new leads on the case and it was progressing adequately, even though no one knew how and with what these women had been poisoned.

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><p>It was Friday and around 5pm, Emily left Katie's room, where they had both been reading, to go get ready for the night. The two women had bonded in the past couple of days and while Emily knew that it was not advisable to make new friends while undercover, she felt less lonely now that she had a new friend in the house. It was great to have Steve around and she has always, and will always, be grateful for him, but she was the deep undercover agent this time around, which meant that she had no contact with Interpol or any other agency and her only connection to her world was Steve. Steve- having been in deep undercover before when Emily was his only connection to the real world- allowed the relationship between the two women to flourish as he more than understood how lonely it can get.<p>

Emily was applying make-up when she heard a knock on her door. Madame Iris walked in and kindly touching Emily's shoulder whispered, "Sam, the FBI wants to speak with you." Emily, looking up at the older woman and seeing just how affected she was with the murders, gently held the woman's hand for a while and then responded, "let them in."

Emily had worked with the FBI before and she actually had very strong FBI connections but she had never worked with the Behavioral Analysis Unit beforehand. She had heard a lot about the BAU but was skeptical of their idea of profiling. She was used to meeting, shaking hands and interacting with the people she was studying. She trusted her profiles because she knew the criminals she was trying to catch; the whole idea of profiling from a table at a local police department, without ever meeting the criminal, sounded fake and contrived. Emily tighten the strap on her robe, she was painfully aware she was only wearing lingerie, and motioned the blonde agent into her room.

The light in her room was dim, the overhead light was turned off and the only light in the room was from two strategically placed floor lamps. A beautiful blonde woman walked in and Emily couldn't help but stare. The woman standing in front of her was truly beautiful; long blonde hair, pink lips, strong but slender frame. She was wearing dark grey slacks and baby pink v-neck sweater. Emily couldn't help but notice how agents, from almost every agency, dress alike. She is almost certain she herself owns that same sweater.

Emily gestures to her bed and offers the agent a seat. She is still sitting on the chair at her desk and when the agent finally sits down, at the edge of her bed, they are only a couple of feet away. Emily crosses her legs, knowing full well that doing so will expose her top leg. Catching the agent's eyes on her leg, she is satisfied that her action had the sought out response and confidently clearing her throat, she asks, "so, agent, what do you want with me?"

Pulling her eyes away from Emily's leg, the agent responded, "my name is Agent Jareau and I wanted to ask you about the incident with Sarah Malkin two days ago." _Professional_, Emily observes. _Confident and honest._

"What do you want to know, Agent Jareau?" Emily answers. Emily knows that the agent is trying to gauge how much she knows. She knows that based on the facts, she is a suspect. She moved into the room where the two other victims used to live and was the second person in the room for the third death.

"Where were you at about 2, 3am last Wednesday?" the blonde agent asks, and Emily notices the agent looking at her legs again. Meeting the agent's gaze, Emily responds, "downstairs, entertaining a couple of gentlemen." _So it had been about three hours after she was killed that we found Sarah. This doesn't help, dozens of people were in and out that night. It doesn't even narrow it down._

"And can you tell me about that morning, when you found Sarah?" _Smart, _Emily thinks_, she is trying to confirm Katie's story. _And as Emily explains that she didn't find Sarah, Katie did and goes into the details of that morning, Emily's eyes wonder to the blonde's lips and hands. As Emily exhales a breath she didn't know she was holding, her eyes meet the blonde's again. _Shit! She totally caught me staring. But that's fine,_ Emily tell herself,_ I can flirt. I should flirt… _

Having noticed the staring and smirking at the beautiful woman in front of her, Agent Jareau asks her final question, "did you notice anything that night? Any client, any other girl who might have wanted to hurt Sarah?"

"Not really," Emily answers evasively. She hadn't noticed anything but she doesn't want the agent to dismiss her so quickly. Emily wished she could ask questions, she wished she could ask if they were investigating all three deaths; she wanted to know if the FBI knew of the mob connection already; she wanted to ask if they had figured out what poison was used but she knew she couldn't.

So she asked the only question she knew would fit with her character, "so, is that it or would you like to stick around for the night? I can always make room in my schedule for you…" Emily stood tall, confidently even though she knew that the agent in front of her was going to say no. Even in their short interaction, she could tell that the agent had a strong work ethic and was a damn impressive agent. The blonde had already gained her respect.

Emily stood tall, and giving her sexiest smile she, very gently, loosen the knot on her robe. While she knew the agent was going to say no, she wanted to enjoy the agent's response to her now partially exposed body. The response didn't disappoint: agent Jareau stammered and took an abrupt step towards the door as she, while blushing, lowered her head, stared at the ground and answered, "thank you for your time Ms. Silver, I will follow-up if we have any more questions."


	3. Chapter 3

JJ took a moment outside Samantha's door to regain her composure. _Fuck, that was hot, _was all she could possibly think during her trip downstairs. JJ had interviewed all of the current residents of the Iris house- the team thought that as the only female field agent she would be better suited for the task- and while all the women were very pretty, none were as striking as Samantha. The brunette was elegant, as well as sensual and JJ kept replaying the conversation over and over in her head. JJ couldn't stop thinking about her dark brown eyes, her reddish lips, the way her robe exposed the toned and strong leg… But even while lusting after the brunette, JJ knew that there was something about her that didn't seem quite right. _But fuck, she's hot. Those lips, that leg._ _Get it together, JJ! Crushing on a suspect is unacceptable! _

She quickly walked downstairs and finished interviewing the staff and while she was unable to see her, JJ knew that Samantha was watching her. She could feel the woman's eyes all over her body and it made her both self-conscious, as well as aroused. She noticed herself adding an extra bounce to her step and standing taller than she usually would. After interviewing the rest of the staff and Madame Iris, JJ walked out of the house and into the car where Morgan had been waiting for her in case she needed back up.

As she climbed into the car, Morgan asked, "how was the interviews?" "Uneventful," JJ answered. "I don't think any of the residents did it."

"Any of them really hot?" Morgan asked, winking at his partner and good friend who he knew was a skirt chaser, "Oh God, Morgan!" was what she said, but _God, yes,_ was what she thought.

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><p>After a briefing on the case, and clearing all of the current residents through the FBI's database, Hotch called it a night. They hadn't found anything significant yet but Garcia was running searches on the three women who had been killed. They had figure out that the women were poisoned but were still trying to figure out how and with what. They also knew that all three women killed had a minor criminal past; nothing interesting, mostly possession and streetwalking.<p>

Walking towards her car, JJ called Garcia back at her den. "The Goddess of all this is known and unknown speaking…" Garcia answered with a cheery tone, "what can I do for you my princess?"

"Can you run a quick search for me, 'Samantha Silver,'" JJ said as she unlocked her car.

"She is one of the ladies at the Iris Mansion," Garcia pointed out, "we already searched her, she came back clean, no criminal record."

"Anything else?" JJ asked, she wasn't sure what she wanted to hear but she needed to know more about Samantha.

"Nothing, old credit card debt being paid off, partial college, born in Pennsylvania. No prior arrests. Nothing interesting, why?" Garcia asked, finding her best friend's interested in this particular lady very amusing.

"Nothing, just checking. I think I am heading back to Iris Mansion," JJ said, not really sure why she said it or why she thought she should go back to the mansion; there was no good reason for her to go back there, specially not at 12:30am on a Friday night.

"Why?" Garcia asked the obvious question. "I don't know," JJ answered honestly, "I just want to check on Samantha again."

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><p>It is late and she knows it is a bad idea but as if her mind and body couldn't communicate, JJ drives up to the Mansion and is surprised by the number of cars parked outside. She walks towards the door and is stopped by a bouncer. She flashes her badge, and, with hesitation, the large man allows her through. She observes him and notices that he has tattoos that are often associated with both prison and the military. She walks into the ballroom and is immediately stunned by the number of people. There are several dozens men, all very powerful, she recognizes a number of senators and executives, and several more women, all scantly clad.<p>

She searches the room for Samantha but doesn't see her. JJ walks to the bar and orders a martini. She recognizes the bartender from this afternoon and calls him by name. "Will, I am agent Jareau, I am looking for Samantha. Is she around?" "No, I think she might be busy, you know, upstairs." He answers looking upstairs towards Samantha's door. "Can you go get her," JJ answers, "its official FBI business," she says confidently. Even though, it isn't.

_What am I doing? Why am I here, why am I seeking her and most importantly, why I am bothered by the fact that she is with someone? That's her job!"_ JJ sits uncomfortably at the bar as she thinks about just how incredibly bad this whole situation is. She watches as Will sets the martini down in front of her and makes his way upstairs. He knocks on Samantha's door and quickly walks in, only opening enough of the door to make his way in.

_Fuck, what am I doing? What I am going to say when I see her? Did I just cost her a client? _She downs her martini as if it was a shot and is too concerned for her professional life to realize just how powerful the drink was.

"Hey," Steve says walking into Emily's room, "Samantha, there is a guest for you." Noticing that the agent was now wearing a loose Navy shirt and baggy sweatpants, Steve smiles and mocking his friend says, "if only your clients could see you know, Ms. Silver!"

Smiling towards her friend, Emily responds "tell them I am busy." While Emily was not required to entertain clients in her bedroom, many had tried to weasel their way into her bed. But right now, Emily can't make the time. She has several files scattered on her bed and she is studying them, trying to figure out if there was anything she was missing.

"It's the FBI. Agent Jareau." Steve said, carefully observing his friend's response. He was concerned about the agent's interest in Emily.

"Why the hell is she here?" Emily asks, both concerned that the agent is back but oddly excited to see the her again.

"I don't know. I was hoping you would…" Steve said, now really concerned about the agent. "What did you say to her this afternoon?" Emily gets up from her bed and closing the files and hiding them in her closet, locking the door and hiding the key in her jewelry box, answers, "nothing significant."

She was confident she didn't blow her cover. "But she did say she wanted to follow-up. I just didn't expect her to follow-up in the middle of the night. Has the FBI searched Samantha's Silver files?" She knew that Interpol had kept tabs on their creation; she knew that they would know if and when the files were searched and that they would follow whoever was searching for Samantha Silver.

"I don't know. I haven't been able to contact headquarters today yet." Steve said, "she thinks you are working. You might want to mess up your bed and change into your skimpy outfit again. Also, put on a 'just fucked face'." He says smiling, "I will distract her so that she thinks you were here with someone. I will send her up."

He walks out of the room and immediately looks down at the FBI agent. As expected she was looking at the door. Steve makes his way downstairs and explains that, "she is with a client but she won't be much longer," while preparing her another martini. JJ nods, still feeling the knots in her stomach. However, it doesn't go unnoticed that while she is stressed about how unprofessional she is behaving, she is also aroused by the prospect of seeing Samantha again.

Steve strategically observes his surrounding waiting for the perfect time to distract Agent Jareau. As if his prayers have been answered, he notices as a client is about to exit the room to the right of Emily's room, so he "accidently" drops the shaker on the bar, which causes Agent Jareau to jump up and help him clean her side of the bar, just as the man is walking by Emily's door he, pointing up the stairs explains, "there, she is done with her client and should be expecting you."

JJ looks up and sees a senator she recognizes walking down the stairs and she feels the knots in her stomach tighten. She takes a deep breath to try to alleviate her anxiety but fails miserably. Walking towards the stairs just as the senator reaches the ground floor, JJ feels the urge to shove the older man but controls herself. She walks the rest of the stairs quickly, acutely aware that she cannot wait to see Samantha again.


	4. Chapter 4

The room is dark, now only the candles working as lights, and JJ walks into the room but stands very close to the door. She looks around and notices that the bed is messy and that there are some clothes, clearly Samantha's, strewn around the bed. She feels the knots tighten again. Samantha is lying in the bed wearing lingerie and a very small and, considering that it isn't really covering anything, quite useless nightgown. JJ walks to the desk in the room and sits on the desk chair.

Emily, sensing the tension in the blonde's body, crawls towards the end of the bed, the closest part to the desk, and, never breaking eye contact, sits and leans forward, breaching all but a foot of the distance that used to separate the two agents. Emily is affected by the blonde agent- she knows it but she also knows that if she is too coy or too reserved, she will blow her cover.

Trying to figure out how to start this conversation, JJ notices that the brunette's neck is very flushed and wonders if it is a response to her or a leftover from the previous client. Running her hand through her hair she decides that it would be best to proceed as if this is a professional and necessary meeting. "So, just a quick follow-up on today's meeting. I was wondering if when you found Sarah she was holding anything suspicious? Do you know if she had eaten anything from outside the house? If she had received anything suspicious in the mail…" And while JJ knew that the questions she was asking were good and relevant questions, she was also very aware that she was rushing through them clearly blowing her reasonable excuse to be in a brothel, in the bedroom of a prostitute she found deeply enticing in the middle of the night.

"Agent Jareau, what's your first name?" Emily asked because she actually really wanted to know and had by now realized that the agent had no official reason to be in her bedroom.

"What? Um, Jennifer. But call me JJ." JJ answered, feeling a bit more relaxed that Emily was taking the lead in the conversation but concerned as to where it would lead.

"Okay, Jennifer," Emily said, smiling at the agent, both women noticing that the brunette did not call her JJ, "I don't know if she had eaten anything suspicious and she wasn't holding anything when I walked in." Emily's mind raced to Katie and it made her wonder if the redhead was in danger; if the poison was on something that Sarah touched, and since Katie touched Sarah, she might have inadvertently touched the poison.

But her thought process was interrupted when she noticed that the blonde was pretty much staring at her chest. Even though she enjoyed the attention, Emily realized that she couldn't play this game with Jennifer. She was deeply, and incredibly, affected by the agent and being affected meant that Emily had no control over the situation.

_You can't be out of control when you are undercover._ She thought to herself and stood up and walked towards the door. "Jennifer, while it is exciting to see you again, I am working," the brunette said hoping that the blonde would leave the room. "Do you have any other questions?"

JJ was taken aback by the Samantha's tone; it wasn't rude or angry but it was stressed. Like something was bothering her but it wasn't necessarily JJ. JJ was also very aware of the fact that she didn't want to leave Samantha's room. And as she searched her mind for other questions, she felt a rush of something she couldn't quite explain and asked, "just one," she took the deepest breath she had ever taken in her entire life and continued "...How much for the night?"

"What?" Was all Emily could say as she stared at a determined agent.

"How much… for a night? ... Or for an hour, I am not sure how this is billed." JJ said, still feeling confident even though every fiber in her being knew this was a really, a really, bad idea; possibly the worse she ever had.

"I am sorry, I am booked tonight." Emily said; she couldn't sleep with another agent. And she really couldn't sleep with JJ.

"I can wait." JJ said. And walking towards the door, she asked, "Samantha, should I wait at the bar?" _Okay, I am going insane. I don't want to wait at the bar as she fucks another. I don't want her fucking other people. I also shouldn't be fucking her… What the fuck am I doing?_

Emily ran through all her options and none looked good. She had no other clients; she didn't want to have any other clients. She was a prostitute so there was no good way to get out of having sex with JJ. She couldn't call attention to herself- and a prostitute in this house without clients would certainly call attention. And, most importantly, and likely playing a bigger role than it should, Emily was profoundly aware that she really wanted the blonde agent.

"Okay, give me just a second. I might be able to move some things around." Emily said. She needed to talk to Steve. "Would you like something to drink?" She asked sexily- trying to salvage whatever was left of her undercover assignment- as she put on her robe and walked towards the door she heard JJ answer, "I will have whatever you are having."

Emily ran downstairs and before she had a chance to get Steve's attention, he saw her, saw the panicky look on her face and walked towards his room. Emily entered his room, closed the door behind her and, without taking a breath, explained, "she wants to have sex with me. Like, pay me. Pay me to have sex with her. Because I am a prostitute." She said as the need to breathe caught up to her.

"Wow, so that is why she is back. The hot blonde agent has a thing for Samantha." Steve said jokingly. "So say that you have other clients and can't do it." "I did, and she said she would wait."

"Oh, okay. You can always tell her you don't do women…" Steve said but he knew that the last thing they needed was to call attention to Emily, well Samantha. There was already too much about Samantha that stood out. She was now living in the room of the two murdered women; she came out of nowhere, without ever going through the nightly hire set-up; she had no prior clients when she joined the house. Emily needed to be as discreet as possible and saying no to the FBI agent was not the way to do it.

Before Emily had a chance to respond, Steve said, "I can't ask you to fuck someone for the job Emily. But I can point out that it wouldn't be the first time. It wouldn't be the first time that, you know, you literally take one for the team…" Steve said and now both agents were smiling.

"Very funny Steve, but not helpful. What if it were you?" Emily asked but she knew that Steve had also literally taken one for the team before.

"Find me the gay version of that blonde agent and I would take one for the team right now. At least she is hot, Em, it could be- and it has been- way worse." Steve said as he directed his friend towards the door of his room. They had been in there for too long and both needed to go be Samantha and Will again.

Emily walked to towards the bar, ordered two shots of bourbon and walked upstairs to entertain her first client, ever. She was too busy trying to calm her nerves to see that Katie was standing in the ballroom intently staring at Samantha as she went up the stairs. Katie was intently staring at the woman she had recently fallen in love with as she made her way to entertain her client.


	5. Note

Okay, here is the deal. First, I am so so sorry for taking so long to continue this story. I recently finished law school, took the bar and got a job. So, I was really busy and stressed out. If it helps, it made me really sad to not be able to finish this story.

Second here is the goal. I have the story planned. It will have about 11 chapters and I have 5 and 6 written. I will post 6 when I am done editing it- likely tomorrow. I know where it is going, so I hope to finish within the month. I am also working on another story, **Love, Friends and Family,**

and revisiting a one-shot, **Someone Else, **and making it into a multi-chapter. Any notes, feedback, requests or ideas please PM and review.

Lastly, thanks to Damhill, funkey-monkey243 and LuvLea1 who were really encouraging during the hiatus.


	6. Chapter 5

Emily stopped behind her door for a second in order to control her emotions. She was attracted to the FBI agent and it was undeniable that she really wanted the blonde; but she didn't want to lie and deceive her like this- it felt wrong. Well, it was wrong. _But what other choice do I have?_ She took a deep breath and balancing the two glasses in one hand, she entered her room. However, before Emily was completely through the threshold of her door, JJ explained, "Ms. Silver, I am sorry. I think I made a mistake. I am not entirely sure this is a good idea..."

With an invisible sigh of relief, Emily responded, "Just call me Sam, Jennifer please. And no need to apologize." And as she noticed the blonde standing up and walking towards the door, Emily said, "stay, drink. You don't have to leave right now."

Emily was feeling considerably more comfortable now that she knew she wasn't going to sleep with the blonde. Yes, there was a twinge of disappointment that was quickly quelled by the reality of the situation. Sleeping with the FBI agent would have been a really bad idea. While she wanted to, sleeping with someone while undercover never ends well. Before she had a chance to stop them, images of Ian Doyle came to mind and Emily shook her head, desperately trying to make them go away.

However, Emily wanted Jennifer to stay. She was attracted to the blonde and enjoyed her company and now, without the pressure of sleeping with the agent but knowing that people thought she was entertaining a client, Emily felt emboldened to ask the agent to stay longer. JJ smiled, relieved that Sam wasn't mad and taking the drink, JJ let her hand linger over Sam's, wanting to assure the brunette that she also wanted to stay.

Emily smiled and took a seat on the left bottom corner of the bed. Following her lead, JJ returned to her seat at the right top corner of the bed. The two women smiled at each other and, recognizing their mutual attraction and that physical distance would be wiser, they each took a sip from the bourbon while Emily asked, "So, how long have you been with the FBI?"

"Eight years. How long have you..." JJ stopped, realizing that the question didn't really work the other way around. Laughing, awkwardly, she asked instead, "how long have you been in D.C.?"

Smiling at the clearly embarrassed FBI agent, Sam answered, "in D.C. for ten years, I came here for college; escorting for seven and here at the house for about a month." Finishing her shot of bourbon, Samantha stood up and walked towards her desk, pulling out of the bottom drawer a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue. "You, in D.C.?" Sam asked walking back to the bed as poured herself another shot.

"Eight years." JJ answered, stretching out her now empty cup. "I came to town to work for the FBI; right after college. I went to Pitt."

"Go Panthers, right Jennifer?" Samantha said amid a smile as she poured JJ another shot. "Yeah, how did you know?" asked JJ, making herself more comfortable and now openly smiling. _West Point versus Pitt is a football tradition; in fact, we crushed you this year, _Emily thought. "Big football fan," Samantha answered.

"Why do you call me Jennifer?" JJ asked, pulling off her boots and climbing in bed. "Why do you think I call you Jennifer, Ms. BAU Profiler?" Samantha asked, her incredulity towards profiling coming through in the way _profiler_ dripped with sarcastic tone as she said it.

"We have effectively caught 76 serial killers. We have rescued 114 kidnapped children in the first 24 hours they were kidnapped and 48 children within the first three days. We have stopped four federal banks from being robbed and taken down at least 7 different mob families." JJ stated with bitterness in her voice.

And then she continued, "you call me Jennifer in order to have the upper hand. Because it makes you feel like you are in control by doing something that I explicitly told you not to. It likely comes from having been powerless growing up. Your parents were high-achieving and professionally powerful and you were raised under strict rules. They were probably highly educated, dominant personalities who made most of your decision for you while you were growing up. Doing things you are not supposed to, like calling me Jennifer, makes you feel like you are in control; breaking rules in a way you weren't allowed to growing up." Jennifer stopped. She took a slow sip of the whiskey both realizing that she probably went too far but too angry to apologize.

"My father was a professor; my mom went to law school but doesn't practice law." Samantha answered, acknowledging that the blonde was correct in her assessment but unwilling to go any deeper.

And continued, "that wasn't the first time you gave that speech. And assuming your disproportionate anger at my possibly offensive but ultimately harmless comment, you gave that speech to someone you wanted to impress but who is not impressed by you, JJ." JJ stared back the Samantha, speechless. "What," Sam asked with a joking tone, "don't you think being an escort requires a certain amount of profiling?" JJ smiled and gave Sam a sad apologetic look that was recognized by a smile from the brunette.

"My father," JJ answered, "he doesn't like that I am an agent and deals with it by constantly criticizing my work. How did you know?"

"You normally gesticulate a lot," Samantha answered "but the data speech was given without any gesticulation; you clearly have rehearsed it. Since you are pretty good with your words, I am assuming you only rehearse speeches when you are afraid of getting emotional."

"You are good." Said JJ with a flirtatious smile. "I know." Answered Samantha, moving towards the top of the bed and sitting next to JJ- legs slightly touching.

* * *

><p>JJ woke up as soon as she felt the body positioned slightly over hers moving. They had slowly moved towards each other as the conversation progressed. They kept talking and as their bodies became more comfortable with each other and molding around each other, they fell asleep.<p>

JJ felt the absence of Sam's leg over and in between her legs as the brunette attended to the knock on the door. She sat up on the bed and looked at her watch. _7:08am, I have two hours before I have to be in the office. _Running her fingers through her hair, JJ overheard the last part of the conversation between Samantha and another woman, who she was fairly certain, was Madame Iris, "Did she say anything about the case?" Madame Iris had asked and Samantha had responded with an audible, "no." JJ also overheard, Samantha reassure the older woman with, "don't worry, Madame, they'll find who is doing this."

Closing the door behind her, Emily walked towards her bed with the two cups of coffee that Madame Iris had just brought her. "She heard you stayed overnight," Emily said, hoping to alleviate any concerns JJ might have had about the conversation she had clearly just overheard. "I hope you didn't invite me to stay in order to find out about the case," JJ responded, only half joking as she took the coffee that was stretched in her direction.

Smiling towards the blonde, Emily answered. "You know that is not why I asked but you can't blame her for wondering. Things are bad here, JJ, people are really scared." She said as she sat on her bed and placed JJ's legs on her lap. It felt so natural to be close and to seek closeness with the blonde that Emily didn't really realize she had done that until after JJ, keeping one of her legs on the brunette's lap, placed the other one behind Samantha's back effectively surrounding the brunette with her body. Placing her empty hand on JJ's stomach and taking another sip of her coffee Emily asked, "when do you have to go?"

"Soon. I am due at the office in a couple of hours but I should stop home, shower and change... We are working on it- we will find who did this." JJ finally said.

"I know." Emily responded with a smile.

"What are you up to today?" JJ asked immediately regretting the question. She liked the brunette and had realized that the more she liked Sam the more she became uncomfortable with the brunette's job.

"Not much. Katie and I are going out for a little while this afternoon and the Mansion reopens at 9pm." Emily answered trying to read meaning into JJ's question. Emily knew that JJ was attracted to her but she could have sworn she heard more in the blonde's voice. Rejecting any real feelings, feelings that would certainly make this case more complicated, Emily stood up from the bed and sat on her desk, mostly to create some distance between her and the blonde. This action did not go unnoticed by JJ.

The woman spent the next hour much like they spent their night. Conversation came easily and the two laughed as they drank their coffee.

* * *

><p>JJ arrived in the office perfectly on time.<p>

She had cut it short, not leaving Sam's until the last possible moment. As she went about getting ready for work she replayed the evening in her mind. She was full of joy, in a way she hadn't been a while, just thinking of the brunette. She giggled, _she never giggles,_ to herself as she remember how Sam's eye lit up talking about Kurt Vonnegut. And as she parked the car at the FBI, Samantha's favorite quote crept to the forefront of JJ's mind and she felt a shiver up her spine. _We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be,_ Sam had said, with a tone that JJ could only identify as sorrow.


	7. Chapter 6

Not my favorite chapter but I needed to get this information into the story- so here it goes.

* * *

><p>Its almost noon, JJ has been at work for three hours and nothing, absolutely nothing new had developed in the case. Whatever poisoned those women has not been identified and there seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to why these three women, as opposed to the other nine, were murdered. There are mob ties, but some of the other women also have mob ties, including Iris, and are still perfectly healthy. The only thing that connects the two first women is the room they slept in. <em>The same room Sam sleeps in.<em> That through kept creeping into JJ's mind all morning and by noon, she was worried and stressed out and with no way of contacting Samantha to at least confirm that the woman was okay.

Turning away from the files and back to her computer screen, JJ was abruptly interrupted by another blonde. Penelope Garcia, BAU's Technical Analyst, storms into her office and locks the door. "Where were you last night?" Garcia asked but she continued, "actually, no, don't bother lying, why were you at Madam Iris' house last night, over night?" She asked, shaking a printout of GPS coordinates from JJ's phone in the agent's face. But before JJ had a chance to answer or to complain about being tagged, Garcia kept going, "JJ, you can get fired for solicitation of prostitution…"

"There was no solicitation! Well, there was, for a little while, but I took it there was no prostitution!" JJ exclaimed and realizing she wasn't making any sense, flustered she finally said, "Garcia, nothing happened. We talked and I feel asleep. That's it."

After a long pause where Garcia looked at her best friend carefully, she said, "Wow," and then she carefully taking a seat, she asked, "When was the last time you did that? Just talk and sleep? With a woman? In bed?"

There was an awkward silence in the room as JJ racked her brain trying to remember the last time she had spent the night talking and sleeping, actually sleeping, with another woman. She had _slept _with many women before- many. But by morning she had either left their place or kicked them out of hers. She barely knew their names, and didn't really care for them.

She liked her independence, and blaming it on the job, always explained that she wasn't one for relationships. She always took pride in the fact that she never lied or made promises she didn't intend to keep. Her one-night stands knew, from the very beginning, that they were one-night stands. Her flings knew they were just flings. The last real relationship she had was in college. She dated Marcy during sophomore and junior year. But then Marcy graduated and met someone else in law school and for the past nine years, JJ has been with many women, and none of them for very long.

"Shit." Was all JJ said. After a long pregnant pause, she continued, "Nothing is going to happen, Pen. I would never put my job in jeopardy."

"So you aren't going to see her again?" Garcia asked, reluctant to believe JJ's dismissal of what happened last night.

JJ, running her fingers through her hair and looking at the paperwork in her office, answered, "no. Of court not," she said in a higher than normal pitch. "Why would I?"

"Oh Sweetie! That was a sad, sad and obvious lie." Garcia answered moving closer to JJ and taking the agent's hand into her own. "How was it? Tell me about her."

Exhaling a shaky breadth, she said, "It was great. It was peaceful. She is fantastic, Pen. She is smart and elegant; she is funny and well read. We talked about everything; it was so easy to talk to her. Objectively, we have nothing in common but when we talk, its like we share everything." It was all said at once, in a fast and giddy manner.

"Is she hot?" Garcia asked, with a mix or excitement and worry in her voice. "Incredibly." JJ answered.

"It sounds, sweetie, that you are in a lot of trouble." Garcia answered in a soft and friendly manner, squeezing her friend's hands. "But I need you to listen to me for a little while." Garcia said, setting her friend's hand down and pulling out Samantha's file from underneath her arm. "I can't really explain it but there is something not right with her file." She said, cautiously observing her friend's expression.

"What do you mean? Is there something wrong?" JJ asked, concerned and now a little scared.

"No, not really. There is nothing out of the ordinary with her file. It is perfectly fine," Garcia answered, and measuring her next words she said, "it's a gut thing. After you asked me to take another look, I looked more carefully at her file. There is just something off, something I haven't been able to put my finger on." Garcia observed her friends response and seeing that she wasn't quite connecting with JJ, she continued, "remember when I used to work as a hacker?" she asked, and once JJ nodded, she continued, "I used to create files, perfect files that could not be detected as false. There was nothing wrong with them, except for the fact that they were completely false. That is the gut feeling I am having. I can't tell you why or how but there is just something not right with this file. I am sorry, sweetie. But there is something fishy with Samantha Silver."

JJ flipped through Samantha's file. From her perspective, it looked perfectly fine. But she knew better than to challenge Garcia. Garcia was the best tech analyst in the FBI, arguably one of the best within the international law enforcement community. If she said that there was something wrong with that file, there was something wrong with the file. However, she knew, she knew there was nothing fishy about Samantha. She had gotten to know Samantha and there was no way she was involved in the murder of three apparently innocent women.

* * *

><p>"Botulism! What the fuck is happening here, Steve?" Emily said, as she paced around her room now incredibly uncomfortable in her surroundings. Steve sat on her bed relaying the news that Interpol had just called in with.<p>

Botulism is a neurotoxin. In very small and controlled amounts, it is Botox; in large amounts it is poison. In adults, it often takes hold in the digestive track, which means that it is very difficult to identify and control once inside a person's body since it is so easily metabolized. It can also take hold through contamination of wounds. Further, because it is easily dispersed, botulism is an ideal poison for biological warfare.

"It can't be food from the house." Emily continued, now a bit more controlled. "Everyone eats the same food and only three girls have died so far. If it was in the food, we would all be dead. Have we checked if they got any gifts in the form of chocolate or other sweets from any of their clients? If they went out to eat around the time of their death? Did they have any wounds?" Emily asks, deep in thought.

"They are going through their stomach contents again and trying to log anything they might have received 72 hours prior to their death." Steve answered. "We are going to have to tell the FBI and the CIA what we have found. The Interpol will let high officials within these agencies know that we are in and who we are."

Emily understood why they had to do it. If this is the beginning of biological warfare then everyone needs to be prepared but it all seems so unlikely. "Why would anyone start a biological war by killing sex workers? Who are they targeting?"

"True. But it also doesn't make any sense to kill two illegal immigrants working as sex workers with botulism. Why go through the trouble of getting botulism if all you want to do is three independent killings? This is too involved and way too complicated." Steve answered, mostly repeating the facts out loud to see if they made any sense.

"Okay, so, three sex workers killed. One American citizen, two were illegal immigrants. Two shared a bedroom. Two had mob ties, well, as far as we know. They didn't share any clients… Jesus, Steve, this makes no sense. There is no pattern!" Yelled Emily, clearly frustrated at her lack of answers.

"Keep thinking, Em. There has to be." Steve said, laying down on Emily's bed and motioning to the brunette to join him. Lying down on Steve's chest, Emily says, "don't do it Steve. Don't ask. I am not leaving." Taking a deep breath and exhaling carefully, Steve says, "then do as I say, only eat or drink from what I give you and be careful. Extra careful... I can't lose you, Em."

He then continued, "your blonde agent won't know. She is not high enough in the FBI to know. It will go as low as Erin Strauss, who is the Section Chief for the BAU, but neither Agent Jareau or her immediate boss will know." Steve said, matter of factly, trying to gauge Emily's response. He didn't like that the blonde had spent the night and, ironically, he was particularly upset that they didn't have sex. As undercover agents he knew that Emily could have sex without emotional attachment; however, a whole night of cuddling and conversation, not so much.

"Steve," Emily said sitting up, "make sure I don't see her anymore. I like her, I like her a lot. I can't see her anymore." Emily confessed.

"The BAU is looking into Samantha Silver. We are tracking their movements in the file. Tech said they would keep us updated." Steve said, not necessarily as a response, but still in response to Emily's request.

"Thanks," Emily said as she lied back down on Steve's chest and allowed herself to cry over her impossible situation with JJ.

* * *

><p>Steve left the room shortly after Emily fell asleep. Still concerned about his friend, he had asked Katie to take his place and make sure that Emily- well, Sam- was safe for the rest of the afternoon. Katie had jumped on to the opportunity of lying in bed with Emily, especially after the brunette had canceled their lunch date, and quickly rushed into Samantha's room.<p>

And as she observed the brunette sleep she leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on the brunette's forehead. Taking in Samantha's smell and her taste, Katie made a wish. She wish that when she tells Samantha the truth, she will understand and she will run away with Katie from this place. That was all she wanted, her freedom, her money and her love.


	8. Chapter 7

It was a little past 10pm when Emily finally made her way to the ballroom floor. She moved quickly towards the table where the mob bosses Interpol had been tracking were seating. Steve had told her they were there and she knew this was her chance to get as much information as she possibly could. It wasn't difficult for her to get a seat and to, quite quickly, become the center of attention of the Mlodinow's family patriarch- a seventy-six year old, heavy-set man.

Mlodinow was disgusting. Not that that was particularly surprising since his mob was presumed responsible for dozens of murders up and down the east coast. But Emily was having a tough time hiding her disgust for him. He kept pushing his knee in between her legs and keeping her legs slightly open. Staring intently at her crotch, licking his lips, he would rub his right hand against himself and smile at Emily, as if this was some flirting technique. It disgusted her every time she felt the need to smile back.

Emily kept the rest of his party entertained with stories and jokes and, from afar, Steve observed, making sure she was safe. There were four men with Mlodinow, his two sons and his right hand men and bodyguard. The two sons were being entertained by other women but the bodyguard seemed captivated by Emily.

Emily was so engaged in being Samantha, in being everything that Mlodinow and his bodyguard wanted her to be, that she didn't notice when the blonde FBI agent walked into the ballroom and took a seat at the bar.

* * *

><p>JJ stared at the brunette from a distance. Sam looks absolutely amazing. She is wearing dark burgundy lingerie under a delicate black dress. The dress is slightly see-through, but only from certain angles and under certain light, making it all painfully tantalizing. Unable to control herself, JJ would stare intently at Sam, longing for the moments when she moved and the light hit her just right and you can trace her lean and muscular back and abdomen.<p>

JJ had promised herself- and Garcia- that she wouldn't go to the Mansion tonight but the more she thought about what Garcia said, the more she realized she needed to ask Samantha what was happening. However, from the moment she walked into the ballroom, she regretted her decision.

Samantha was busy entertaining clients. She sat across from a greasy, older man who kept forcefully keeping Sam's legs opened and starring at her crotch. But the creepy old man was the least of her worries; it was his companion, a tall, strong and clearly physically powerful man that worried her. He hadn't taken his eyes off Sam yet and the intensity of his stare was definitely making JJ uncomfortable.

JJ was so intently watching the scene in front of her that she neglected to account for the amount of alcohol she was drinking. Around her third shot of whiskey, the greasy, older man excused himself and left the table. That was when the companion leaned into Samantha and, placing his hand on the chair right in between her legs, whispered something into Samantha's ear. Then he left, walked out of the ballroom through the back and took a left. As JJ finally had enough courage to approach Samantha- unfortunately it was all liquid courage- she saw Samantha also get up and walk the same path as the burly man. _What the fuck?_ JJ took back her seat on the bar and, keeping time on her phone, thought, _they only get ten minutes. _

Seven minutes had passed when both Samantha and the burly guy returned. She had red blotches on her neck and her lips were red, _just like they would be if she had been kissed with a certain amount of force._ The look on the man's face was intense, obsessed. JJ downed the contents of her fourth cup and ordered a fifth one.

Emily was elated. This was the first big break they had had in the case. Mlodinow's right hand man wanted to meet tomorrow and talk; he said they had a thing going that she might be interested in joining. She knew, she could feel, they were close to figuring this case out. Tomorrow, 3pm, she had a meeting with the right hand man of the Mlodinow's family. She walked back to her seat purposefully, finally feeling that this operation would be a success.

Unfortunately, her determination faded away the minute she saw the blonde agent sitting on the bar. _How long has she been here?_ Where there was pride about breaking this case, there was now shame and Emily felt uncomfortable at the clearly disgusted look JJ was giving her. As the blonde agent downed the contents of her cup, Emily approached her table and just as she was taking her seat- with her back to the agent- Emily saw, in the corner of her eye, someone who wasn't Steve pouring JJ's drink.

There was something odd with the bartender's mannerisms, there were more movements then needed to pour someone a shot of whiskey and as her brain worked in overload, she excused herself from her clients and quickly walked towards the blonde who was just about to take the first sip of her new drink. Stopping the cup mid-air, Emily stated, "I think you have had enough, Agent Jareau."

Once the cup was safely in her hands, Emily looked around, searching for Steve and whoever poured this drink. However, neither of them was in sight. "You should go back to your fucking clients. The old guy is surely hoping to get as lucky as the burly one just did." With pure venom in her voice, JJ said, struggling with Emily, trying to get her drink back.

"Go home, Agent. You are embarrassing yourself," was all Emily said, as she desperately scanned the room for Steve._ Where are you Steve?_ _Fuck!_ Distracted by the sinking feeling she felt at Steve's absence, Emily let her guard down and JJ retrieved her cup from Emily's grasp and in the struggle the cup was slammed onto the bar, shattered, and cut the palm of JJ's hand.

_Contamination through open wounds,_ was all Emily could think as she moved quickly around the bar. In reality, it all took seconds, in Emily's mind, it, however, felt forever. In one swift move, she jumped to the back of the bar and, using many more paper towels then necessary, she pushed the now shattered glass and its contents into the sink, effectively cleaning the bar top. Picking up the larger pieces of glass, she placed them in a clean and clear re-sealable bag. Jumping back out from the bar she forcefully took JJ's hand and practically dragged the woman upstairs to her bedroom.

Dragging a fighting JJ, who was thankfully to drunk to actually put up a fight, Emily locked the door to her room and opening the door to her half bathroom, held JJ's hand under freezing cold water. The blonde struggled and cursed at the pain but Emily was both more sober and stronger.

The cut wasn't that deep or that big and, objectively speaking, JJ was in no real danger even if her drink had actually been poisoned. Emily knew that, she knew that JJ was safe, but with her brain still working in overdrive and her desperation at not knowing where Steve was, she overdid the caring for JJ. She washed the wound profusely and for an unnecessarily long time. JJ tried to pull her hand away but eventually gave up, both because it was clear that she wouldn't be able to do it but also because Emily started to cry.

"It's okay, I'm okay."" JJ said, looking deep into dark brown eyes. Smiling tentatively, JJ was able to stop Emily's continued cleaning of the wound and just held her hand. The agents stood there, holding hand and looking into each other's eyes. Realizing that whatever was happening was bigger than the cut on her hand but incorrectly attributing it to the loss of the three women, JJ pushed herself against Emily's body and Emily leaned in, forehead on shoulder and lips precariously close to neck.

It was in this moment that JJ realized that whatever it was that she was feeling, she wasn't feeling it alone. As she felt Emily's every breath against her neck and the brunette relaxing against her body, JJ knew that whatever she felt, Samantha felt it too. Feeling for the first time and two days that everything would turn out okay, JJ embraced the brunette and gently kissed her forehead.

JJ's gentle kiss stirred some things in Emily. _Desire, lust, possibly love. Guilt. Most importantly guilt. _Guilt for lying to the blonde and guilt for still being upstairs when she didn't know where Steve was. Still worried about Steve, Emily turned away from the blonde in an attempt to move downstairs but JJ wouldn't let go of her arm. "Stay here with me. I don't want you to go back downstairs." JJ said, in a voice so quiet she wondered if she had actually said it out loud. "You don't have to do this anymore. I can give you a different life." She said, feeling a bit more confident since Samantha hadn't interrupted her.

Emily moved away from JJ who let go of her arm. Her mind drifted back to Steve and she felt ill. She needed to get back downstairs and this conversation was more than she could handle right now. The emotions in JJ's eyes were more- way more- than Emily could handle right now. This wouldn't be the first time someone fell in love with her while she was undercover but this was the first time she felt herself reciprocating these feelings.

She closed her eyes as she rebuilt her walls, and, feeling her walls fully rebuilt, Emily turned towards JJ who was now quietly observing the brunette and said, "Jennifer, you should go. I need to go back downstairs. I have to go back to work," in her perfectly cold Agent Prentiss voice.

"We are back to Jennifer, are we?" JJ said, her voice cold and broken, causing Emily to flinch at the pain she knew she was causing the blonde. But Emily knew this was for the best, she couldn't stay here with JJ, there was Steve and _she doesn't even know who I really am. _

So Emily did what she always does when someone gets too close, hurt them and shove them away. "What do you think we are, Jennifer? Girlfriends? Lovers? Soul mates? Are you kidding me with this savior bullshit? You are a client; nothing more." Emily said, invading the blonde's personal space to portray confidence, but avoiding eye contact fearing that her eyes would give her own feelings away.

But as the agents made eye contact, JJ saw something shift in Samantha's eyes. She saw the vulnerability, care and concern previously in the brunette's eyes turn into _nothing._ Desperately trying to read the brunette's emotions and only coming up with emptiness, JJ stood up and invading Emily's personal space whispered, "no, no, don't do that. Don't shut me out. I saw you Sam, I have seen you. Don't do this, let me in. Please let me in."

And as the brunette broke eye contact and moved away from the blonde, JJ, in a desperate attempt to draw Emily out again, pushed the brunette against the bathroom counter and claimed her lips in a desperate and passionate kiss.


End file.
